


"Fine."

by fakebodies



Category: Flatliners (1990)
Genre: Angst, Hospitals, I've been meaning to write this for a while so, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, here you go, no actual death, self-destructive thoughts, this is a bummer but it ends alright
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 10:12:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10694901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fakebodies/pseuds/fakebodies
Summary: Nelson closes his eyes, remembering the feeling of David pulling him up from the floor, his distant voice as he'd panicked over the sheer amount of blood on Nelson's clothes and floor. He can't deal with David now. There's just no way.





	"Fine."

When Nelson opens his eyes, it isn't to a line of trees. There was no Billy Mahoney, no dog. Just a plain, white ceiling and the smell of disinfectant. Nelson turns his head, looking at the heart rate monitor next to him, and the IV in his arm. He takes a slow breath when he sees the bandages wrapped around his forearms, remembering most of what had happened. Some of it refuses to come back, but he remembers breaking down, finally. A month after his second flatline. If his mouth wasn't so dry, he'd laugh. He can already hear the others, telling him how good he'd been doing. How okay he'd seemed. What a fucking joke.

Nelson pushes himself up in bed, shaky, debating on what to do. The clock on the wall says it's three in the morning. He can feel his cuts pulling beneath the bandages, wincing slightly as he climbs out of the hospital bed. He could push the button, or he could pull off the electrodes for the heart rate monitor. He doesn't think he has anyone listed as an emergency contact but he _is_ pretty sure David found him. He doesn't need David being called in the ensuing freak out, as satisfying as it would be, so he settles on just pushing the button.

A nurse arrives a few minutes later, Nelson having laid back in bed. He doesn't need to look like a problem patient when he's already feeling miserable. She brings him some water, waiting while he drinks before asking how he feels.

"Fine."

"Can you elaborate?"

"Tired." he shrugs. "But if you're asking if I'm going to try to kill myself, no. I'm fine."

She nods. "Do you want Mr. Labraccio to be called?"

"No." Nelson says firmly, rubbing his eyes. The last thing he wants to deal with is David's pity, his oh-you-poor-broken-man, let-me-fix-you face.

"Are you sure?" the nurse frowns. Nelson nods.

"Don't call Mr. Labraccio. I don't want to see him." he glances up at the clock. Three forty-seven. "Can I go back to sleep?"

"Of course. Press that button if you need anything." she stands, leaving once Nelson nods. He knows what to do. Right now he just wants to be alone.

He spends the next day in bed, eating when a nurse brings him food and watching TV or staring out the window the rest of the time. He wonders idly what would happen if he ripped out the IV, picturing a rush of doctors and nurses as he bleeds all over the hospital bed. Nelson sighs, pushing the thoughts from his mind as he watches a rerun of a rerun of a game show he'd seen that morning. Before he goes to sleep, he's asked if he wants them to call David. He shakes his head, again, and the nurse seems almost disappointed. It's a kind of disappointment Nelson can deal with.

It's two days before he's allowed to get up and walk around, still staying in his room for the most part. He tries to leave sometime around midnight, taking the IV pole with him as he heads right past the nurse's desk, towards the elevator. He is, of course, stopped. Nelson hadn't really expected to get far, but a small part of him had hoped. A nurse with warm eyes gently holds his arm, walking him back to his room.

"What was that about?"

"Nothing."

"I know it's not fun here." she smiles sympathetically. He sighs, deflating.

"No shit."

"David Labraccio has been asking about you, you know." she helps him lay back down in bed.

"And?" Nelson frowns.

"And he's been told we can't disclose anything. He seems worried. You're sure you don't want to see him?"

Nelson closes his eyes, remembering the feeling of David pulling him up from the floor, his distant voice as he'd panicked over the sheer amount of blood on Nelson's clothes and floor. He can't deal with David now. There's just no way.

"I'm sure." he looks at the nurse again. This nurse nods understandingly, squeezing his hand. She doesn't seem disappointed like the other nurse, which is a relief.

"If you change your mind, let one of us know. It can be hard to face others, but you might get tired of just seeing nurses day in and day out."

Nelson actually smiles at that, even if it's a tired smile. He thanks her and she squeezes his hand again before leaving him to sleep.

Two days later, he caves. Friday night, when he's asked again if he wants David to be called, he says yes. The nurse who'd first checked on him nods, seemingly relieved. Nelson's expecting to see David the next day, but instead he hears David's voice from down the hall at eleven thirty, demanding to see him. He'd wanted time to prepare for this, but apparently he's not going to get it. David finally gets to his room, standing in the doorway and staring at Nelson. Nelson tries pretending to be asleep, but David doesn't leave.

"Nelson..." David's voice is shaky. He sounds as exhausted as Nelson feels, and it's satisfying. David had just had to apologize for being a snot-nosed little shit. Nelson had tried to drive a pickaxe through his own skull. Not what Nelson would call fair.

What he's not expecting is the warm voice of the nurse who'd comforted him while he'd tried to leave. He's kind of kicking himself for not paying attention to any of their names.

"Nelson, I know you're awake..."

He opens his eyes, pointedly refusing to look at David. "I thought he'd come tomorrow."

"He's closest to an emergency contact for you, since he brought you in. Your family is..." she trails off, and Nelson smirks bitterly.

"Non-existent, yeah, I know. Still. He's not blood. Shouldn't he have to wait for visiting hours?"

"He should," she gives David a pointed look, "but he-"

"I needed to see you, Nelson." David takes a step forward, past the door frame.

"Take a good look, Labraccio. Then get out of here. I want to sleep."

"Nelson-"

"No. Come back tomorrow like every other non-family visitor in this place." Nelson gives David a cold look, and David seems to wilt.

"Nelson, I... I'm..."

"I don't want to hear it. Go home." Nelson pulls the thin blanket back up around his shoulders, closing his eyes. He hopes David will take the damn hint. He does, after watching Nelson for a few more moments. When the nurse clears her throat, David sighs, turning and leaving. The nurse switches the light back off, shutting the door behind herself. Nelson couldn't be more thankful she'd been the one on duty when David came bursting in. After an hour of just laying in the dark, Nelson falls into a restless sleep.

Noon, Saturday. One week since David had pulled his half-dead body out of his apartment, rushing him to the hospital after sloppily bandaging his bleeding wrists. He had, unfortunately, already puked up what he'd swallowed, so David hadn't had to worry about the empty pill bottles. He's gotten pretty good at ignoring whatever self-destructive thoughts worm their way into his mind, and he blocks out the idea that he should buy a nice big bottle of painkillers on the way home.

Nelson's sitting at a table in one of the greeting rooms. One of the other patients, an old man, had asked if he wanted to play cards, and he'd almost accepted. David probably would've just left if he'd seen Nelson in the middle of the card game, having fun. Smiling. Not that Nelson likes cards that much, but the sick, bitter part of him would've loved what it'd do to David. He'd been cruel enough last night, though, so he's decided to play nice. He needs time to lick his wounds and rebuild his facade, and as much as he enjoys being bitter it's no fun when David just takes it. He'd rather have David snap and yell at him than just look let-down.

He looks up when he hears the sound of boots on the sterile hospital floors. Sure enough, David is walking towards him, bags under his eyes, paler than when Nelson had last seen him. Nelson hadn't really noticed last night, and whatever little part of him still wanted to be bitter died. When David starts to pull out a chair, Nelson shakes his head.

"Let's go sit on the couch. There's a channel that plays old movies, they were playing Coogan's Bluff this morning." Nelson stands, still a little shaky. He knows David's pretending not to notice, smiling weakly at Nelson.

"Coogan's Bluff, huh?"

"Yeah." Nelson smiles back tiredly. He sits down on the worn-out couch with David, switching to the right channel. It's halfway through Where Eagles Dare, but Nelson isn't really watching. David pretends to be interested for a few minutes, though eventually his shoulders slump and he looks over at Nelson.

"Why..?"

" _Why_?" Nelson frowns.

David just nods.

"You don't know what it's like, David, and don't you dare say you do. You just had to apologize. I died twice, and the second time I got chased up that tree, and I got knocked out of it, and Billy Mahoney looked at me and I knew I was supposed to follow him. That my time was up."

"Nelson, I-"

"One month. One month of everyone pretending nothing happened. No one said anything, no one cared, and every time I looked at the corpses we had to dissect I kept thinking about how it was supposed to be me. How I should've been the one on the table. I cheated death when I wasn't meant to." Nelson smirks bitterly, and David doesn't try to say anything this time.

"When I did it, I thought I'd wake up to see Billy Mahoney and my dog. I thought I'd apologize for being late, because some people-" he glances up at David to make his point painfully clear "-couldn't let me go."

"What did you want me to do?" David asks, voice hoarse, like he might cry.

"I don't know, David. I don't know." Nelson sighs, looking down at his hands, at the faded scars on the backs from snubbing out cigarettes on his skin. He huffs out a tired laugh.

"Nelson..." David starts to reach over, and Nelson yanks his arm away. He knows that tone of voice.

" _Don't_. I don't want your pity, Labraccio." his voice is cold, and David pulls away.

"I'm not- I care about you. I do, Nelson, please..."

Nelson sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. "It's fine. I said I wasn't going to act like this. It's fine, I don't care. Pity's fine."

"It's not pity."

"Then what is it?" Nelson gives David a bitter look. David's fingers twitch like he wants to do something but doesn't know what, and Nelson's about to say something when David's hand rests lightly on his shoulder and David's lips press against his own. Nelson's brain shorts out and he freezes up. Half-formed thoughts race, and by the time he entirely realizes what happened David is pulling away, looking hurt.

"I'm sorry, I'll-"

"David, holy shit?"

David lets out a startled laugh. "What?"

"You- I mean, Rachel? Rachel and you?" Nelson manages, his words about as coherent as his thoughts.

"We never really... I couldn't focus on her. She deserved someone who really loved her."

"And..?" Nelson rolls his wrists, anxious. He wonders how bad the scars will be in the short time it takes for David to answer.

"You, Nelson. You're the reason I couldn't focus."

"I _am_ damn handsome." Nelson smirks, making David rolls his eyes.

"Do I need to spell it out for you?"

"Try an essay, MLA format, twenty sources." his smirk falters.

"I was worried sick about you..." David sighs. Nelson bites his tongue, wanting to let David speak.

"I thought for sure I'd lost you this time. When you... the second time, the others said to just let you go. They didn't think- they said you'd been under too long. There was nothing we could do, and..." David trails off, picking at the hole torn in the knee of his jeans.

"When you went under, I flipped my shit. Not literally, but I didn't trust any of the others to bring you back. They could've, but you're... I was freaking out, David. I just acted cocky and shitty but I was terrified." Nelson sighs.

"So you..?" David looks up, hopeful.

"Yeah, I guess." Nelson nods. He looks back up at the TV, watching Clint Eastwood for a couple of minutes. The whole moment is too raw for his liking. It feels like one of them is going to start crying, and Nelson doesn't have the energy to deal with tears. Neither of them will admit what they're feeling out loud, and if Nelson isn't going to do that he isn't going to let himself break any more either. He feels David look away as well, grateful for the chance to collect himself. When the camera cuts to a new scene, Nelson turns back to David.

"I'm being released today."

"It _has_ been a week." David nods, sounding like he hadn't really noticed the time passing. He probably hadn't.

"I don't have a ride home." Nelson shrugs. "Want to stay with me until I get to leave?"

"Sure, I'll be your ride." David smiles a little.

"Great. Want to keep watching Eagles?"

"Yeah, alright." David nods, turning his attention back to the TV. Things almost feel normal.

That night, after being given instructions to change his bandages daily and put ointment on the cuts, David drives Nelson back to his apartment. Nelson almost asks to go to David's instead, but he's not ready for that. Not yet.

He stands at the door, debating whether he wants to go up or just stand outside and smoke through the last few cigarettes in his pack. When he doesn't immediately go inside, David climbs out of his jeep.

"Is everything okay?"

Nelson just nods, only glancing at David before his eyes focus back on the door. He reaches into his pocket, closing his fist around his keys, but he can't seem to lift them back out of his pocket. David walks over, pulling off his military sweater. It's thick and olive drab, with patches on the shoulders and elbows, and it smells like David. Like everything Nelson isn't. David holds it out to him.

"It's good luck. I got an A on an exam I hadn't studied for wearing it."

Nelson accepts the sweater, finally pulling his keys out of his pocket.

"Thanks."

"It's nothing." David shrugs. Neither of them know what to say. Nelson finds the right key on his ring.

"Call me. I worry about you." David meets Nelson's eyes.

"I'll be okay." Nelson shrugs.

"You said that last time."

"I'm just going to microwave some food and sleep. I'll be fine." Nelson doesn't sound that sure, but he isn't going to admit he's terrified he'll go up to his apartment to find Billy Mahoney there again. Or to see the blood left to stain the floor. Or the spilled pills. His hand shakes, so he squeezes his keys tighter.

"Just call me in the morning." David nods, not commenting on Nelson's grip on the key ring, how white his knuckles are.

"I will." Nelson relaxes slightly. That's a goal he can achieve.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, then." David gives Nelson one last worried look before walking around to the driver's side of the jeep, starting it. Nelson nods, walking up to the door and heading inside, climbing the stairs to his apartment and sliding the key into the lock, David's sweater still under his arm.

He hangs up his coat and takes off his shoes, switching on the light. This is a routine he can easily follow, as he fills a glass with water and sticks some leftover takeout in the microwave. It was too old to be good, but Nelson can't bring himself to look at the rest of the food in his fridge. While that reheats, he walks to his bedroom, ignoring the stains in the hallway. Pajamas, pull the blankets down, stare in the mirror, go back to the kitchen when the microwave beeps. He pauses when he sees David's sweater on the counter. He pulls it on, pushing the sleeves up to his elbows as he gets the carton of szechuan beef out of the microwave. It's dry and unpleasant, but it fills his stomach.

He throws away what he doesn't eat, turning off the light in the kitchen before making his way to the bathroom. Brush his teeth, stare in the mirror, swallow a sleeping aid, stare at the rest of his pills, piss, leave the bathroom. Another light turned off, Nelson walks over to his bed. He takes a deep breath, checking the drawer of his nightstand. His screwdriver is still there. Another deep breath, and another, and Nelson switches off the last light in his apartment. No Billy Mahoney. He slides into bed, pulling the sheet up, leaving the rest of the blankets around his waist. He falls asleep with one arm tucked under his pillow, still wearing David's sweater. In the morning he'll call David, and they'll agree to meet for breakfast where they'll try to figure out what they're going to do. For now, Nelson takes slow breaths, reminded of everything he isn't. Good. Stable. Functional. It's enough to lull him into a deep sleep, dreaming of something other than death for the first time in a month.


End file.
